I'm Never Saying Goodbye To You
by britbojangles
Summary: Santana Lopez, an infamous 'fixer' in the District of Columbia, and her associates, Sam Evans, Tina Cohen-Chang, and Quinn Fabray, question the mysterious past and present of their enigmatic coworker, Griff Porter. Scandal based Glee AU. Rated for implied violence.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: No more stories right? I am such a lying bitch. I watched **_**Scandal**_** with a friend and this idea would not let me study until it was typed up. This is a one shot. I may continue it, I may not. Tell me what you want.**

**You do not change **_**have**_** to watch **_**Scandal**_** to understand this. **

**Thank You Windsor.**

OoOoO

Santana knew that Griff was different. Everyone that worked for her was different in one way or another. Each associate at Santana Lopez and Associates had a colorful past. That was part of the reason Griff was different. No one knew his past, not much at least.

There were a few details that Griff Porter shared with his associates about his previous life. The details were not family friendly but they were what the curly haired boy (?) -Santana was never sure of his exact age- with the giant, golden eyes and the crooked half smile remembered.

1.) "I used to kill people. The C.I.A. trained me to kill and I did it well."

2.) "I have no family or friends -other than you guys. That was a stipulation of my acceptance into B6-13."

3.) "I do not talk about B6-13. None of us do and none of us will. Just know that I am good at my job."

4.) "Killing is not my only skill. I can torture your child's social security number out of you if needed."

Griff was not lying. While the more gruesome of his skill sets was not necessary in their line of work -Santana was a fixer, not a killer- the more persuasive one was. As completely immoral and undoubtedly illegal as it was, Santana used Griff for his powers of persuasion.

The time Texas Congress woman Fowler's five year old son went missing, Santana sent Griff out to search for information with very clear instructions.

"This Damien guy knows something, Griff. Find out what it is." She stated as the young man shoved various items into a beaten up backpack: a small torch, an electric drill, and pliers, among other things. "And, for God's sake, do not kill him."

Griff stopped packing his bag long enough to shoot Santana a look. Then, without a word, he continued.

"I mean it, Griff, do not kill him" Griff did as he was instructed. Forty-eight hours and two blood soaked shirts later, Riley Fowler was returned to his mother and Damien was left with a few ugly scars.

Griff was fantastic at his job, too bad Santana did not know enough about him to know what else he was good at.

OoOoO

Tina Cohen-Chang had a curious life. It was far more curious than she ever imagined. During high school, she never imagined that her name would be changed from Jessica Gamble to Tina Cohen-Chang. That was a direct result of illegal activity orchestrated and hidden by the United States government. But that was another story, a story she did not like to tell. It sat at the forefront of her mind most of the time, but not today. Today, Griff was on her mind.

"Did you want to...do something?" She asked her friend. "You seem down today."

Griff shrugged. He always shrugged. Or pushed a giant clump of curly hair away from his eyes. Or offered a slightly broken smile. Or something equally as frustrating and endearing.

"I'm fine. No thank you." Griff replied, his eyes fixed on the toes of his worn Converse sneakers. "I think I am going to go see my person."

Reluctantly, Tina sighed. Of course. Griff always ran to his person. It was a man this time. Last time it was a girl.

No one in the office questioned Griff about his private life. They knew him and accepted him for who he was. So what if he sat outside a stranger's house every night and watched them. He was doing no harm. He never made contact with the person and he had no intentions of hurting them. He was just watching. Tina remembered the one time she went with him to see_ his _person."

The two sat in the cash purchased, black sedan that Griff owned, across the street from the front windows of the house. Night fell hours before, leaving the two cloaked in darkness.

"That's Burt." Griff explained as he pointed to the large, bald man that sat in an arm chair next to the front window. The blinds were not drawn, leaving all visible to the naked eye from the street.

"Burt and his wife moved to D.C. while he was serving in Congress. When his term ended, they stayed. They relocated the tire shop that he owned back in Ohio to here and have been in business since."

Tina smiled as she watched the man recline in his chair. He had a kind smile and an easy going demeanor. She assumed that was why Griff chose him. "How do you know all this?"

"I watch. I listen." Griff replied without taking his eyes from the scene. "Oh... and that's Carole. She is Burt's second wife. His first passed away quite a while ago."

Tina smiled as she watched a chestnut haired woman sweep through the room and plop down in the seat nearest her husband. Their hands met and their fingers locked before falling limp between the chair and the couch.

"Carole is a nurse. She also lost a spouse." Griff continued. "They have two adult sons; one is a teacher in town - a giant man with a kind smile- and I don't know much about the other. He never visits and I rarely hear them talk about him. He lives in Ohio, I think."

The two watched silently as their performers watched television. Tina was absolutely enthralled at the way her friend reacted to the people just inside the house before them. He was memorized.

"Why them, Griff?" She eventually asked. "Why this family?"

"It's not the family, it is Burt. I have no idea but he feels right to me. I have to stick with what feels right."

Tina nodded but spoke no more. She remembered Griff's last person, a singing waitress named Rachel Berry. Griff stuck with her for two years. He watched her every night until about six months ago. When Tina asked why he was moving on, Griff simply replied, "She said something during a phone call."

When continuously prodded, Griff admitted that he had no idea what she said but he knew that it made him angry. Tina dropped the conversation immediately.

"Have fun with your person tonight." Tina told her friend before sliding past him.

Griff offered her a kind smile -the kindest he could muster- in return. "Have a good night, Tina." With that, Griff went back to packing up for the evening.

OoOoO

Sam Evans was not a bad person, contrary to popular belief. He was a victim of socioeconomic circumstances, but not a bad person.

When Sam was twenty, shortly after arriving in D.C. from New York, he received devastating news from his family. His father was laid off and his family was painfully close to being evicted from their home.

Sam, recently hired to assistant manage a popular night club in the area was at a loss for how to help. If he gave up his job and went back to New York then he was adding another unemployed mouth to the mix. If he stayed and worked then he would still not make enough money to provide necessities for himself and his family. Sam was stuck. His back was against the wall and his family's wellbeing was on the line. Sam did the only thing he thought he could do. He stole.

His thievery started small. He took a few hundred dollars from his work safe over a five week period. When it was evident that such small sums were not providing his family with the security they needed, he took larger sums. Sam capped out with a grand total of $250,000. Almost a year later, he was caught and charged.

Queue Santana Lopez. One particularly dreary evening in lockup, Sam was advised that he had a visitor. It was Santana Lopez.

"I am Santana Lopez and I am your lawyer now. You do not piss, smile, or speak without my permission. Is that understood?" Sam nodded dumbly. "Good. Continue to understand that. I am the best lawyer in this city and, if you hope to get ahead of these charges, then you need to listen to me." Again, Sam nodded. The raven haired beauty with the no nonsense attitude had him completely awestruck. "Good. Now tell me everything. If you leave anything out, I will walk out that door and you will rot in here."

Sam, never one to let down a woman in a stunning pants suit, did as he was told. He started from the very beginning (his birth) and concluded with his arrest. "Do you think you can help me?" He asked when his story was completed.

"Of course." Santana replied without looking away from her notes.

"But why?"

"Because not everyone in jail is a bad person. You made a horrible judgment call but... you did it well. You were smart enough to steal that much money without getting caught for over a year."

Sam offered the woman a half smile. "I'm not smart, I am simply a stickler for details."

"Exactly." Santana shouted. "And I need a stickler for details on my side. I need someone that will look at the individual small pictures will the rest of us tackle the larger one. I need you and I cannot have you if you are in jail."

Five months later, Sam's charges were dropped and he was employed as a private detective with Santana Lopez and Associates. It was there that he met the quirky yet caring Tina Cohen-Chang. She was a smart _once upon a time_ lawyer that was framed for a crime that she did not commit. Just like with Sam, Santana took the girl under her wing.

Sam also met Quinn Fabray. She was a spitfire lawyer with a sorted past. After graduating from Harvard, Quinn entered into a marriage with a politician. Within a year, she visited the emergency room thirty times for injuries related to assaults that she refused to speak about. After a particularly harsh beating, Quinn was visited by Santana Lopez. Within a week, the blonde filed for divorce and quit her job. Sam cared deeply for Quinn and her struggle. Quinn cared deeply for her gun and her undying pursuit of justice for those not strong enough to seek it themselves.

Sam, Tina, and Quinn each owed Santana a debt. She helped them during their darkest days and they paid her back by working for next to nothing as private detectives in her firm. Regardless of the issue a client had, Santana and her associates were able to fix it. That was what they did.

OoOoO

Unlike with his colleagues, Sam had no idea about Griff's history with Santana. The three associates had no idea about who he was in his former life. The did know, however, not to piss him off. He was a C.I.A. Trained killer after all. Quinn and Sam learned the hard way.

After a particularly grueling case, the duo decided to cap the evening off a local bar. "Griff," Quinn shouted across the make shift office they worked in, "Tina and Santana are heading home. Come get drinks with Sam and I."

The pair watched as their coworker shifted nervously from foot to foot. His oversized jeans and baggy shirt nearly swallowed him as he did so. "I can't." He replied. "I have to-"

"Go see your person." Quinn replied knowingly. "I have to admit, Griff. That creeps me out. I mean, who are these people to you? Are they people that have done you wrong? Are they future targets?"

Sam watched Griff's body stiffen. "I would never...!" He hissed through gritted teeth. The malice in his voice did not match the hurt in his eyes. The golden suns that he kept barely visible with overgrown bangs that hung low into his face swam in seas of tears. "I would never do anything to hurt them." Griff stomped out of the room, leaving a stunned Sam and a remourseful Quinn in his wake.

OoOoO

Quinn spent weeks apologizing to Griff. Each time she apologized, the young man shrugged and mumbled something along the lines of 'it's okay'. It was not okay. The heartbroken look on his face haunted the blonde at night.

It was never Quinn's intention to hurt her friend. She was having a horrible day. Her period started, she ran into a man that reminded her of her ex-husband, and her car would not start. The case was difficult and the day was long. Unfortunately, Griff received the brunt of her frustration that day.

For weeks, Quinn brought the young man a cup of coffee from a Starbucks near the office, grande nonfat mocha. Griff drank it religiously.

Weeks and weeks of trying culminated into a single day. Quinn was rooting through files that she received on a case when Griff knocked on her office door.

"Can I help you?" Quinn asked hesitantly, pushing her work aside. Griff shuffled into the office, closing the door behind him.

"Umm...I know you don't understand why I people watch -I don't either- but I want you to understand that I would never hurt these people. I don't know what it is about them but I can't hurt them, not even if Santana asked me too."

"I am sorry for suggesting that you would. I had no right and no reason."

"You had plenty of reason. You know the things I've done. I have killed people and that is not a secret in this office. But I cannot hurt these people. I feel this strange connection with them and I cannot hurt them. I cannot hurt my chances of feeling again."

Quinn nodded. "I understand."

"You don't, but I would like you to." That was how Quinn ended up huddled in the front seat of Griff's car across the street from the home of Burt Hummel.

OoOoO

**Visiting Griff's person with him. Open invitation. -Quinn**

Sam, Santana, and Tina received the same text that evening. At 9 pm the three met at the corner of a dimly lit, suburban street to accompany their friends. They all knew where Griff's person lived and were happy to join the unofficial surveillance.

When the trio reached the car they knew to be Griff's, Santana swung the back door open and each person scurried inside. The December chill was unforgiving, leaving each of the three walkers anxious to bask in the warmth of a running car.

"Burt is trying to get his son to visit for Christmas." Griff stated in lieu of a greeting. "He has been trying to for months, but he is doubling his efforts as we get closer."

Four sets of eyes turned towards the house. They watched as a pajama clad Burt Hummel paced his living room floor with a phone pressed to his ear. "His son does not want to. It's not that he doesn't love his family but he is really sad. He can't leave Ohio but I don't know why. I don't know why he is sad."

"How do you know all this?" Santana asked. She almost did not want to know the answer. Griff had his ways, some less legal than others.

Griff pressed his forehead against the driver's side window as if to get as close as he could to the man in the house. "I came yesterday and I heard him talking to Carole about it. She doesn't want him to worry because his heart is bad but he just kept saying 'how can I not worry? He is my son and his heart is broken too'." No one replied, instead, they watched.

"I hope Kurt visits." Griff said a short while later. "Burt loves his son so much and he just wants him to be happy."

"Maybe he will." Tina offered. "You never know."

Griff shrugged as he often did when he could not find a viable response, one that did not make him seem too invested in a situation that clearly had nothing to do with him.

"For his father's sake, I hope he does." Quinn added, turning to her friend. "But you will not know if he comes because you will be spending your holiday with us. Five broken workaholics at Santana's house with a table-top Christmas tree and too much alcohol." The blond chuckled.

Griff shot her his most endearing, shy smile. "I can't wait." He whispered before turning back to the Hummel-Hudson residence.

OoOoO

A light blanket of snow covered the quiet suburban street that Burt Hummel and his wife resided on. Griff was not bothered by the snow. Not in the least bit. Nothing could bother him because nothing could bother Burt Hummel.

Hours ago, just after Griff returned from a much needed coffee run and restroom break, Burt received a call from his son, Kurt. Apparently, the young man decided to join his family for the holidays after all. Burt was ecstatic. Griff was ecstatic. Nothing could bring them down.

Griff's eyes danced between the digital clock on his dashboard and the empty driveway in front of Burt's house. He and Carole left hours ago to retrieve Kurt from the airport. It was half past eight and Griff was anxious. Santana was expecting him at nine. It was Christmas Eve and Griff promised not to miss the party. If he could help it, Griff never broke a promise.

Half an hour slipped by quickly. With each passing moment, Griff grew more and more anxious. The prospect of seeing Burt's son meant more to him than it should have. His hands were slippery and wet around his coffee cup and his heart was racing in his chest. Griff was a mess and, like many other things in his life, the young man had no idea why.

Headlights shone in the distance at a fifteen minutes past the hour. Griff was just about to turn on his own headlights when he noticed them. The hazel eyed man quickly dropped his hands to his side and held his breath. He knew those headlights. They were the headlights to Burt Hummel's truck.

Griff watched anxiously as the car pulled into the driveway. Moments later, the engine died and three doors flew open.

"We'll help you get your stuff." Burt said as he stepped to the back door of the car. His son, hidden partially by a shadow created by the car door shook his head. "You sure? It's not an issue. Is it, Carole?"

"Absolutely not, Kurt darling." Carole replied anxiously.

Again, Kurt shook his head.

Griff watched as Burt's shoulders slumped. "We'll see you inside then… I guess."

His son gave a stiff nod. Together, despite their distance (and Kurt's ignorance to the fact that Griff was lurking in the shadows), Griff and Kurt watched Burt and Carole stroll hand in hand into the house. The front door closed and Griff's eyes darted back to the open car door. Kurt was still inside.

Minutes passed slowly. Griff found himself wondering if Kurt would ever leave the truck. It did not seem likely... until it happened.

One foot at a time, Kurt stepped out of the vehicle, his back facing the street. From the heels of his shoes to the tip top of his head, Kurt was gorgeous. It was a revelation in itself. Griff could not remember a time when he found himself sexually attracted to someone. Kurt was an obvious and unexpected exception to that rule. His back was so beautiful that Griff longed to know what his front looked like.

When Kurt turned to the street, eyes shining like stars beneath the street light, Griff's breath caught. Kurt was stunning in a way that felt too close to a home that may or may not have existed. The lost, sorrow filled look on the young man's face sent chills up Griff's spine. Why did it feel familiar? Why did Griff care? And why did the single tear that fell from Kurt's right eye make Griff want to hurl himself off the world's highest structure?

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

Griff's head spun. "No." The words were a lie that danced around in his head from sun up to sun down. They were a promise that was never kept. Someone had said goodbye to him.

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

"No! No! No!" Griff beat his fists against the steering wheel as he shouted to himself. On one particularly hard blow, he accidentally hit the horn, sending a loud honk out into the air for all the neighborhood to hear.

Kurt turned towards him, a quizzical glint dancing in his eyes. Slowly but surely, the young man, bundled in warm winter clothing began to make his way to the car. Griff's eyes stayed trained on him as he reached into his center console.

Griff had no idea why the sight of Kurt invoked such a reaction but it had and now he'd been caught. The time had come to handle the situation in a way that only he knew how.

OoOoO

At shortly after ten, Tina began to worry. Griff was late and she could only imagine that he had decided to spend Christmas Eve sitting across the street from Burt Hummel's house. The young woman sighed as she reached for her previously abandoned drink.

The mood at Santana's house was merry. All were in high spirits. Well... for the most part. At one point during the evening, Santana holed herself in her room with her phone. Shortly after excusing herself, the group heard her shouting loudly in Spanish. They all knew she was upset with her girlfriend, Madam President Brittany S. Pierce. She was the nation's first female president and a closeted lesbian. She was also playing on Santana's heart strings as if the girl was a guitar. Luckily the shouting was short lived and Santana returned seemingly unphased.

Sam and Quinn were in unusually high spirits. After his arrest, Sam's family disowned him. Most years, he spent holidays alone in his apartment, wallowing in his sorrow. Though he spent a portion of the evening locked in a closet with a bottle of Jack Daniels, he was not as glum as Tina expected.

Then there was Quinn. The most frigid of Tina's coworkers, Quinn did not enjoy holidays, especially Christmas. She said it reminded her of the Christmas that her ex-husband broke three of her ribs. Despite her dislike for the holiday, Quinn seemed to be enjoying herself as well. That only left Griff.

"Has anyone realized that Griff never made it?" Tina shouted over the loud, Christmas music that played in the background.

"He probably decided to stick with Burt tonight. If that's what makes him happy then I won't stand in the way." Santana shouted back, a bottle of Port in one hand and a straw in the other.

Quinn nodded. "Yeah and it isn't like he could be hurt. He's kind of a killing machine. That's pretty much on par with Superman."

Tina let out an agitated groan. They did not seem to understand her frustration. Griff was their friend and she hated the thought of him spending Christmas camped outside a stranger's house. "I'm going to text him."

"Tell him I said Merry Christmas." Sam shouted as he searched for a straw of his own.

"Whatever." Tina muttered. She was already tying away on her iPhone.

**Where are you? I am worried. Sam says Merry Christmas. -Tina **

She received a reply moments later.

**I'll be there in a minute. Something bad happened. I need your help. -Griff **

Tina read the text to herself a few times before reading it aloud. With each word she spoke the party died slowly. No longer was the laughter as long and drawn out as the work day. The apartment was completely silent, the only exception being the stereo that blasted Christmas music in the background.

"You don't think he-?" Quinn let her accusation hang in the air.

"No!" Tina snapped. Griff would never hurt Burt. He cared for Burt. "Griff wouldn't do that."

Quinn held her hands up in defeat. "Sorry, I was just say-" The blond was cut off by a knock at the door.

Santana raced to answer the door, her associates hot on her tail. When she pulled the door open, the group let out a collective gasp. Before them stood Griff, pants wet up to his knees from snow and a body slung over his shoulder.

"Oh my God, Griff. Is head dead?" Tina asked timidly. The group watched as Griff's eyes widened in horror.

"What? No! Of course not. I just… etorphine and... I don't know what I'm doing but… this is Burt's son and I know he has something to do with my past. I need to figure out what."

Without hesitation, Santana stepped aside, allowing Griff entrance to her home. "Come on in, Griff. You just became our next client."


	2. Chapter 2

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

Griff lay the motionless body of Kurt Hummel on the red, leather couch in Santana's living room more gently than he'd ever placed anything down in his life… or at least more gently than he could remember. Not a pen, piece of paper, or cup could ever claim to have been treated nearly as gently. His targets definitely weren't treated as gently. Kurt was glass and Griff was worried that he would break if not handled carefully.

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

Griff hovered his thumb across Kurt's cheek, never allowing the two body parts to touch. The cheek was flushed red from the cold outside and icy to the almost touch. The reaction Kurt's face had to the frozen elements was completely natural; normal. Everyone that stood outside and then retreated to the warmth of a house was likely to have rosy, icy cheeks. Griff included. Though Griff knew this to be true, the normalcy and expectation of Kurt's body's reaction set the once assassin on edge. Griff was not normal. He barely comprehended the idea of normalcy, regardless of how simple and right it seemed.

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

Griff pulled his hand away from Kurt's face as he positioned himself on his knees next to the couch. All of the _normal_ that lay in a heap before him felt completely unnatural. "I only gave him a small injection. He should wake in a few hours." Santana and Tina nodded as they undressed Kurt. He was bundled to perfection in his winter best. He was also burning alive, his numerous layers were causing him to sweat. "I sent Burt a text from Kurt's phone. I pretended to be Kurt and said he needed to go for a walk. I hate lying to Burt but I needed time. I don't want him to worry."

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you._'

Griff's eyes flickered between the two women that were _manhandling_ Kurt's boots off his feet and then back to Kurt. He was angelic in a way that made Griff's chest ache. He was so beautiful. So pure. So..._fragile_. "Please be careful with him."

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you._'

"So that gives us a few hours to get as much as we can on him before sending him on his way." Santana stated as she undid the buttons of Kurt's large coat, seemingly ignoring Griff's plea. Gently, Santana did her best to _gently_ remove his jacket, though it was a difficult task considering that Kurt was nothing but dead weight at that moment.

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

"Yeah." Griff responded absently, still watching his friend closely. "When he wakes on of you need to tell him that he fell and hit his head. He should have a headache so he will believe it. Ask him if he remembers anything and then take him home."

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

"Where will you be?" Quinn asked, her voice as stone cold as the Christmas Eve chill outside. For the first time in too many years, Quinn allowed herself to believe that she would enjoy a nice, normal Christmas holiday. As with every other year, she was sadly mistaken. She was resigned to believe that Christmas would never be normal again.

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

"I can't be here. If we do know one another then he will recognize me. I… can't talk to him. Not yet." Griff's voice was as hollow as the space where his heart should have been. Though no one found it funny, Griff always joked that he was a Tin Man, someone born without a heart. His reaction to Kurt put that joke to rest quickly.

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

"Then you don't have to." Santana announced. Her authoritative tone commanded the respect of everyone in the room. If she said Griff did not have to be present when Kurt woke up then he did not have to be present. Santana Lopez left no room for arguments.

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

OoOoO

Each person was assigned a duty. "Sam, I want you to go through his wallet. It is in his back pocket and I am certain it will help us understand more about him."

Hesitantly, Sam nodded… and gulped. The look on Griff's face -the threat in his eyes- was frightening. "Ummmm… his back pocket?" Sam asked. The thought of touching anything that _belonged, _to Griff was never an appealing idea for the blonde. He never ventured into his friend's cramped, closet office and he never looked twice at the curly haired man's paper bag lunch in the refrigerator. In Sam's mind, this scenario was the same as the other and the idea was an unbelievably bad one. "I...I am not sure about that." He eventually stated.

Santana rolled her eyes in Sam's direction, completely missing the fierce look on Griff's face. "Why not?" She asked irritably. She had no time for Sam's sudden surge of homophobia. When Sam did not respond, she followed his line of vision straight to Griff, who was still crouched next to the couch.

Daring. Griff was daring Sam to put his hand anywhere near Kurt Hummel's back pocket. Like a coiled snake, Griff looked as if he could strike at any moment. Sam's hesitation finally made sense.

"Could you grab his wallet for us, Griff?" Santana asked politely, hoping to diffuse some of the tension that was swarming around her favorite couch. She watched as Griff -whose eyes were still fixed in a cold glare directed at Sam- reached blindly into Kurt's pocket and retrieved his wallet. He presented it to them in a single, swift motion. Sam grabbed it and scurried away. He could not wait to leave the room and Santana did not blame him. Griff was officially a ticking time bomb in her eyes.

With Sam combing for details in Kurt's designer wallet and Griff sitting idle at Kurt's limp side, Santana moved to direct her other employees.

"Quinn, I know intel is usually Griff's specialty but..." She motioned to her couch. Their curly haired friend was still sat on the floor watching over Kurt. It was like seeing a mother lion trying to protect her cub from the elements. "I need as much information as you can get on Kurt. Sam is getting some information but I need you to get the rest."

"You want me to do what he does?" Quinn asked, shocked by her friend's suggestion. Quinn would do anything for Santana, she had before and she would again, but she would not do that. She would never do the things Griff did to get information. Never.

Santana sighed, placing a hand on her hip, and turned to her friend. "Not that... idiot. I mean look him up online. Get a feel for this guy that has taken our delightfully odd friend and made him frightening. Work with Sam on some of the basics."

Quinn fell into her duties without hesitation. Torturing people for days was not her forte but digging dirt on the internet was a cake walk for her. She could and would do that well.

Lastly, Santana sought out Tina. She found the young woman standing in a doorway, observing Griff and their surprise guest.

"I don't understand any of this." Tina said as her friend -her savior- approached. "I know it all means something but I don't know what. I just..." The newest member of the team waved a hand towards her friend and his… _person's_ son. "This can't just be coincidence."

"There are no coincidences. There are only patterns that have not been discovered. This is like a code and we have to break this code." Santana explained. "Everyone has a job in this and your job is to watch over them. Griff trusts you more than anyone else here. Now is the time to show him why he can trust you. Be here for him... from a distance. If he looks like needs something then get it."

"What about Kurt?" Tina had to ask. Kurt Hummel was the reason behind their friend's odd behavior, so it felt necessary to be there for him as well.

"Don't touch. Let Griff ask for things he feels Kurt may need. Don't offer anything just... watch and wait."

Tina nodded, allowing the weight of her duties to settle on her shoulders. "What are you doing?" She asked as Santana began to walk away.

Her boss, and friend, turned to her and held up a phone. "Griff grabbed it for me. He once told me that you can find out who a person really is by going through their cell phone. So..." Santana waived the phone at girl before heading off to her room to investigate it. As it seemed, everyone was in for a long Christmas Eve.

OoOoO

Sam did not find much in Kurt's wallet. An Ohio driver's license. A social security card -Sam cringed a bit when he found that. Everyone knew that keeping their social security card with them was an invitation for identify theft- a few twenties, a Bank of America debit card, a DOD issued Tricare card, and a tiny piece of paper dated Feb '06.

Sam opened the paper first. He left the remaining items scattered across Santana's home office desk, which he was occupying.

_'Courage'_

Sam read the word a few times. Courage. It was being more than one's self even when afraid, even when faced with life's difficulties. Someone, at some point in time, wanted Kurt to have courage. Sam added that to his short list of information about Kurt before neatly refolding the paper and gingerly placing it back into Kurt's wallet. Sam

"What do you have, Sam?" Quinn sat across the room, her laptop perched atop her crossed legs, and her eyes focused on the screen. The blonde did not bother to look up as she spoke. When it was time to work, Quinn worked. She was completely professional while working, all business. Everyone that worked for Santana was professional in that sense during a case. The cases the small group took on were always of dire importance. There was no room for friendly exchanges. Ever.

Sam responded in the same fashion, all work and no play. "Kurt Hummel is 25 and lives in Lima Ohio. He banks with Bank of America and he keeps a note from when he was..." Sam took a moment to count back the years. "seventeen in his wallet. He has military insurance."

A pregnant pause followed his speech. Something about the last fact did not sit right with Sam. Maybe it was the eccentric clothing Kurt wore -the bright winter coat and expensive, designer shoes- that made it near impossible for Sam to believe he was military. A dependent. Kurt was a dependent of a member of the military Sam deduced. But how? Griff advised them during their 'stakeout' that Kurt lost his mother as a child and that Burt Hummel was a mechanic, turned politician, turned mechanic. There was no military history to be spoken of, as far as Sam knew.

"Is there something wrong with him having military insurance?" Quinn asked. Unlike before, she was now typing away at the keys as if her life depended on it. In a way, it did. Everyone's did. If Griff exploded...Sam shook his head. He refused to think about it.

"I don't know yet." Sam gathered Kurt's wallet once again and began to dig through it. There was something he missed. There had to be. The feeling in his gut was telling him so and he never ignored that feeling. Santana told him to always trust his gut. She told him that it would never lead him astray. To date, it never had.

OoOoO

"His hands are cold. He needs a blanket." Tina looked up from the cup of straight eggnog she was nursing. The sound of Griff's voice, laced with concern and something Tina could not identify, drew her attention away from the drink. "And he needs a pillow too. His neck is wrenched to the side and he'll probably have a crick in it when he wakes up. That wouldn't be good."

"Blanket and pillow, check." Tina responded as she sat her drink on a nearby end table. "Can I get you something? Maybe some dry pants and something to drink?"

"No." Griff left no room for further suggestion or argument.

Tina let out an agitated huff before doing as she was asked. When she returned, she handed the pillow and blanket to Griff and retook her position in the doorway. From there, she watched her friend cautiously place the blanket over Kurt's body and the pillow beneath his head. It astonished her how careful Griff was. She always knew her friend was careful, but that was a requirement of his job. This, this was different.

Griff had to be careful while working, lest he wanted to be caught doing things that were sure to have him executed in any court of law across the country. This was different, however. Griff, with his jagged, bitten fingernails and overgrown curls that reminded her of weeds in an untended garden, was being careful because he wanted to. The thought broke her heart and warmed the shattered pieces all at once.

OoOoO

Before Griff, Santana Lopez and Associates searched online information in one of three places: social media sites, FreeCreditReports Dot Com, and Google. They used the information they discovered in those three places to build backgrounds and timelines about the person they were working with or against. Quinn searched tirelessly through the three to find any relevant information about Kurt Hummel. Her search was almost as fruitless as Sam's; almost.

As Sam stated, Kurt Hummel was a 25 year old resident of Lima, Ohio. Since Kurt did not have a Facebook, Tumblr, or Twitter account to speak of, Quinn began her search with Google. It was there that she found information that she needed.

Using a few key words, Quinn found out that Kurt Hummel was a graduate of Ohio State University with a degree in Library Sciences. On December 7, 2009, Kurt Hummel married Blaine Anderson. Quinn typed the name in her notepad for future reference. She would look into Blaine Anderson later.

Quinn relayed each piece of information she found to Sam. "He's a married librarian from Ohio. He graduated top of his class at OSU and... he's completely broke." The last part perplexed the woman. Librarians were not known for being wealthy but the few Quinn knew were not flat broke with credit scores that would not allow them to purchase a 'buy here, pay here' vehicle from the seediest of used car salesmen. "He has a bunch of write-offs on his credit report and they are all from about two years ago. Apparently something happened and he just... stopped paying his bills I guess."

"Maybe he lost his job." Sam suggested plainly. Quinn looked up just long enough to see him staring at her. Quinn knew that Sam had firsthand experience with the lower end of the financial spectrum. The loss of a job was often detrimental for those who did not have the means to stay afloat without a steady income.

"But he's also married." Quinn insisted. She refused to believe that Kurt could be in so much debt and have no support from his husband.

Sam shrugged. He understood the possible situation of Kurt Hummel too well. "And maybe his husband was laid off and they had to let some bills go to take care of necessities. Maybe his husband left him. Did you find anything other than the marriage certificate?"

"No." She answered curtly.

Sam stood from his spot at the desk and crossed the room to join his coworker. "Then look for something else. They could have gotten a divorce. His husband could have died. The possibilities are endless these days."

"You're right." Quinn replied despite herself as Sam settled next to her on Santana's beige, leather couch.

Once Sam was settled and couch was still, Quinn began to type the name 'Blaine Anderson' into her Google search engine. Her mouse was hovering over the 'Google Search' button when Santana burst into the room. Both blondes looked up from the computer to their boss.

"Wait!" Santana huffed. She was out of breathe due to her mad dash from her bedroom to her office. "I just figured this thing out."

OoOoO

Ten minutes of failed passwords and one lucky guess was all Santana needed to solve the mystery behind Griff's need to stay near Kurt and his choice to watch Burt Hummel. Another five minutes also solved the mystery of Griff's choice to watch Rachel Berry until her departure for New York.

The answers began to unfold with the unlocking of Kurt's phone. The password was so easy that Santana could not believe that she had not thought of it first. 1. 2. 3. 4. It was a lazy man's password. As the lock screen dissolved into the home screen, Santana took note of the background picture. It was a soldier, clean cut and crisp. The soldier's hazel eyes were what drew her attention. They were warm and caring, despite the thin, determined line that was his mouth. Determined to what? The answer was evident. This man was a soldier and he was determined not to smile, though he wanted to very badly.

Santana examined the picture for a few moments. There was no doubt in her mind that the soldier on Kurt's phone was Griff. Unless her troubled friend had a twin brother, of course. The odds of that were unlikely. Griff was once a soldier that Kurt Hummel knew. The knowledge spurred Santana's search of Kurt's phone. Answers were like a drug, once she had one, she needed more.

Little things caught Santana's attention. The email from Kurt's place of employment:

_Kurt, we understand that you are still grieving the loss of your husband but we need you to return to work or we will be forced to let you go. We have been patient for three years. It is time to move on with your life or find another job. We hate to do this, we really do, but we need an answer by Friday._

The email was marked as important, having been received months prior. It went unanswered.

A string of text messages between Kurt and a friend(?):

_I think you should go see your parents for Christmas. You can't stay holed up in the loft over my garage all day. -Cooper_

_I'm not 'holed up'. I went to the grocery store today. That counts. -Kurt_

_But you didn't go to work. You didn't go see Blaine's grave. You didn't go see any of your friends. You didn't come see me at the school. You didn't go to the doctor to get antidepressants (I still think that's a good idea. I wish you would listen.) You didn't do anything but sit in front of your phone (or computer) and look into this conspiracy theory you have. This has to stop, Kurt. Go see your family. -Cooper_

_You are my family too. And it's not a conspiracy theory. -Kurt_

_It is! He's gone and we all have to live with that! I wish you would understand that. You're holding out this false hope and… I hate seeing you like this. Your dad hates seeing you like this. -Cooper._

_Whatever! BYE! One day you're going to know that I wasn't wrong. Then how will you feel? Don't answer that because I am officially not speaking to you! -Kurt_

_Kurt...-Cooper_

_NOT. TALKING. TO. YOU! -Kurt_

And then an e-mail chain:

_Kurt,_

_I looked into that information again. Everything fits what you were told. They did not send home a body because there was no body to send home. I'm sorry for being blunt, but it is true. I know you're hurting, but you have to let this go, man. Blaine died. It's as simple as that, so stop thinking about it. Start moving on. Go see your parents (I saw Carole the other day at the grocery store and she said she missed you.) and tell them you love them. Hell, move out here. D.C. Would do you some good. Just...let it go._

_Artie._

_Artie,_

_First of all, go to Hell. I didn't hire you as a psychiatrist, I hired you as a private detective. Of course they said he was dead, it is part of a cover-up by the military. They took my husband and I want him back. That's not fair that they get to have him and I don't. The information I sent you proves that they took him. Why can't you see that?_

_Kurt._

_Kurt,_

_Do you pay attention to the stuff that you write before you send your e-mails off? Your theory is crazy. This entire situation sounds ludicrous. And I know what you hired me for. What I am telling you is that you should look into hiring someone that WILL act as a psychiatrist. You need medication._

_Artie._

_Artie,_

_Go to Hell!_

_Kurt._

Santana pulled her phone from the pocket of her sweat pants to send her own e-mail.

_Hello,_

_My name is Santana Lopez ( The same Santana Lopez that you worked with for six years at the White House.) and I am looking for information that Kurt Hummel sent to you. He has hired me to take his case and he advised me that you have the most relevant information. Please contact me at your earliest convenience so that we can set up a date and time to trade notes._

_Sincerely,_

_Santana Lopez._

While Santana awaited a response -Artie Abrams was known as a workaholic in their professional circle, he would most certainly be working Christmas Eve.- she continued to dig through Kurt's phone.

There was a text from Kurt's father. It was a response to the text Griff sent hours ago.

_I understand that this is hard for you but I really wish you would let us help. Carole and I love you and we just want to help. Think about that while you're walking. We'll be waiting up. -Dad_

With every piece of information Santana gathered, her heart went out to Kurt and Griff. They were a young couple torn apart in the name of patriotism. Sometimes Santana hated the country she lived in.

Next were Kurt's pictures. Santana skipped them completely. Her gut told her that Griff would want to be the first person to stare at frozen memories of a life he once lived. Santana would respect that. After everything that was taken away from the man -young man from the looks of it- she would offer him the opportunity to share that moment with Kurt. They had a long road ahead of them and a walk in photos could be their first stop in the journey.

Santana's phone rang just as she was exiting the phone's gallery. It was Artie.

"Hey, Artie. I see you got my email." As old friends and once colleagues, Santana chose not to air on the side of professionalism.

She heard her friend scoff. "I got your damn email. Are you crazy? You cannot take this case. Kurt Hummel is unbelievably crazy. His grief has taken him over the edge and he needs to be committed." Santana cringed. Artie sounded angry. And honest. And if Santana was being honest, she had to admit that she understood why. If the tables were turned, she would have reacted just as Artie was. The tables were not turned, however and Santana knew the truth.

"I get it. I really do but...he's paying me well and I just want to look at his information. Worst case scenario, I send him back to Ohio crying. You know if I give someone the boot, they are done for."

"True. Alright, do you want to meet at our old spot? I can give you this crazy's information and be done with this situation. Maybe I can enjoy my Christmas holidays then."

It was Santana's turn to scoff. "Yeah right! You're probably outside someone's house right now. You don't celebrate holidays."

"And you know this. Wanna meet in fifteen? Bernice is the only woman in the city that hates her employees enough to make them work on Christmas Eve so we can get something to eat."

"She doesn't hate her employees." Santana corrected. "They're all her kids and they mooch off her. That's why she makes them work the holidays. It's a family thing -something neither of us can understand. And I will meet you there in fifteen. I want everything you have on Hummel. Don't dick me around on this."

"Wouldn't dream of it." With that, the call was disconnected. Santana was out of her bed and down the hall before her phone had time to cool down.

OoOoO

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

Griff laid his head on the tiny bit of sofa that was not occupied by Kurt's body. Something about being close with Kurt felt right, so very right. Something about Kurt felt so right that Griff was certain that it was enough to wash away every wrong he'd ever done. Being near Kurt made everything feel right, so much so that Griff imagined nothing could go wrong again.

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

For hours, Griff lay with his head against Kurt's body. It was then that he began to notice things that made his heart flutter. The tiny up curve of Kurt's nose. The way his eyelashes framed his face. The tiny hair that had fallen away from the rest of them and was rested lightly against his forehead. The idea of a stray hair felt 'off'; wrong in a sense. Griff's gut told him that Kurt was not keen on stray hairs.

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

After a few moments of hesitation, Griff lifted a hand from his side and ran across Kurt's forehead, pushing the stray back into place. The contact sent electricity through the man's body. His hands began to shake and his heartbeat doubled. It was the beginning of the end. A single touch sent Griff spiraling to a place that he was not sure if he would ever return from.

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

"I'm never saying goodbye to you." Griff whispered as he stared at his hand, the same hand that was touching Kurt's forehead moments before. It was as if he expected it to catch fire or begin to glow at any moment.

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

Footsteps sounded behind him. It was Tina. Griff knew Santana left her as his babysitter. He hadn't cared until that moment. "What?" Tina asked, the confusion in her voice was unmistakable.

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

Griff tore his eyes away from his hand to look up at Tina, they were wild and unfocused as if he were an animal. "I'm never saying goodbye to you." He repeated.

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

Tina furrowed her eyebrows as she knelt beside her friend. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, trying offer comfort. Griff tore his shoulder away from her and repeated the line once again. "I'm never saying goodbye to you."

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

"Honey, I'm never saying goodbye to you either." Tina offered. It wasn't enough. I would never be enough. Griff shook his head. He had to let her know that her words were not what he needed. "I promise I'm not."

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

"No." Griff shouted. Tears welled in his eyes and his curls bounced back and forth as he shook his head. "You can't promise that. Nobody can promise that because it's not true. Someone always says goodbye."

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

"Who said goodbye to you, Griff?"

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

All at once, Griff's body stilled. His hands stopped shaking and the welling tears in his dried. "I don't know." He stated calmly, much to Tina's astonishment. "But I think he does." The two stared at the man on the couch. Only, he wasn't sleeping anymore. He was tossing and turning in a fit to wake from his slumber.

_'I'm never saying goodbye to you.'_

"I have to go." Griff stated simply. Before Tina could object, Griff was off the ground and headed to the front door. She was left with a tossing, turning Kurt Hummel and more questions that she had answers.

OoOoO

"Did you find something?" Sam asked anxiously.

Santana nodded. "Tons. I need you guys to-" The woman was cut off by the sound of Tina barreling into the room. The youngest member of their group did not take time to catch her breath before speaking.

"He's waking up and Griff just jetted. What do I need to do? I'm freaking out." The woman half shouted.

Santana held up a hand, effectively stopping Tina's rambling. "Get a damp cloth and put it on Kurt's head. Tell him that he fell and that you had no idea where he lived so you brought him here. Then, offer to take him home."

"His wallet and phone?" Quinn questioned. Kurt would certainly know if his phone and wallet were missing.

Santana waved her off. "We'll put the wallet back in his pocket and keep the phone." The entire group froze. "What? It gives him a reason to contact Tina on the number that she will provide him with. It will also keep him in town for a little longer while he's searching for it."

Understanding fell over the group. Santana always had a plan. "Then, after you drop him off and assure his family that he is fine, you will go to Griff's house. I need you to stay there to make sure he is okay. Can you do that, Tina?"

Tina nodded anxiously. "Absolutely."

"Good, then go." Tina dashed out of the room as quickly as she entered it. When Santana was certain the young woman was out of earshot, she turned to her other associates. "Okay, I found out some stuff but I am going to get more information now. Meet me at the office in a few hours. Don't tell Tina."

The two blondes exchanged a look before turning back to their boss. "Why?" Quinn eventually asked.

"Because if we tell Tina then Tina will tell Griff and then Kurt Hummel will never get home to his parents."

Again, the blondes shared a look. "Why?" It was Sam that asked the second question.

"Because Griff once told me that someone told him they would never say goodbye to him and if he ever figured out who it was, he would make sure they kept that promise."

OoOoO

**A/N: By popular demand, I removed the 'completed' tag on this one. This will be a short story; five chapters tops. For anyone that watches the show, Griff is a bit crazier than Huck. Thanks for all of your reviews, I always appreciate reviews. :)**

**Love you long time, Windsor. **


End file.
